


There are Skeletons in The Closet (And Monsters Under The Bed)

by black_telephone



Series: Droplets of Blood [3]
Category: Dexter (TV), Dexter Series - All Media Types, Dexter Series - Jeff Lindsay
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Dex/Deb, F/M, Incest, Moral Ambiguity, Pseudo-Incest, debster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_telephone/pseuds/black_telephone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rudy. Rudy Cooper. She loves him and he loves her too.</p><p>But from somewhere between frenzied but meaningful sex and air guitar lessons and making casts and fucking proposals she reach to the trunk of her car.</p><p>She is bound and she is dead.</p><p>And then she is not. Her brother is here.</p><p>Rated M. Dex/Deb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There are Skeletons in The Closet (And Monsters Under The Bed)

**Author's Note:**

> Title: There are Skeletons in The Closet (And Monsters Under The Bed)  
> Fandom: Dexter  
> Pairing: Dexter Morgan/Debra Morgan, Debra Morgan/Brian Moser
> 
> References to violence, violent imagery, neglect and shitty parenting by Harry Morgan.  
> Repost from ff. net

  
__****  
  
There are Skeletons in The Closet  (And Monsters Under The Bed) 

 

.  
  


 

There is this feeling of wanting to claw off her skin. Not just her skin, her flesh too, so that all her veins are on display and she can check ( _and they can check_ ) whether it is blood itself that is flowing through it or whether it is something vile and thick like bile.

 

She honestly cannot remember when things got so fucked up.

 

.

 

When she was young, she dreamed of Prince Charming. And Happily-ever-afters. Of course, she must have noticed that there is something wrong with her right from the beginning. Because, her Prince Charming didn’t kill her monsters for her, her Prince Charming didn’t win wars for her. Her Prince Charming waited while she fought the wars and slaughtered the monsters. He was her rock, her army commander, her companion, but _never_ her champion. And after she had slain all the monsters, both of them rode off to ‘Happily-ever-after’.

 

While she was young she dreamed of Prince Charming, she doesn’t anymore.

 

.

 

She didn’t think anything was wrong with her for a long time. Then, when she was still a girly kid and all her friends talk about how they hated their brothers, about how they were annoying and disgusting, she realised that she doesn’t. She doesn’t hate her brother. She loves him.

 

.

 

At fifteen, she falls in love for the first time. But she believes that she had fallen in love many times before. She hadn’t.

 

This is the first time. And she _loves_ him. Her Dad and her brother barely notice her existence; but here is a guy who cherishes her existence each day as if it is a miracle. He looks at her with eyes full of adoration, eyes so happy to have found her and she shivers. She looks in the mirror most days, trying to find out what hidden beauty he sees in her. She stares and stares. ( _Mirror, mirror, on the wall..._ )

 

Her Dad or brother doesn’t notice her spending more time in front of the mirror or her smile becoming a lot easier.

 

She watches the night sky with him and they create new constellations with simply tracing the blinky stars. He creates and she christens them. One that looks like a lamb, a spider, a butterfly, a mouse, a leaf, a heart...

 

She looks at his clear blue eyes and thinks of how they just created a universe of stars within just minutes and she swears ( _she swears_ ) that she’ll love him forever and they’ll end up together and they’ll have their happily ever after.

 

He clasps her hand in his and smiles and she thinks _happily ever after is already here_.

 

.

 

At seventeen, she already lost her love and she is a little bit wiser and a little bit smarter.

 

She has a new boyfriend, someone she does not love and someone who doesn’t love her. But somehow it started making sense. More sense than all that Disney shit anyway.

 

He doesn’t look at her with adoration and she doesn’t look at him with love. The words they exchange are clichéd and rusted, their faint metallic flavour leaving a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

 

She doesn’t birth the stars anymore. She rarely looks at the sky anymore. She had learned that the sky doesn’t hold answers. Not for her. ( _Not for anyone_ ).

 

 

.

 

Her Dad dies. She is sad and crushed and every inch of her skin is seeping with sorrow. Yet there is a tiny part of her soul, a very tiny one, _which she hide and hide in a desperate hope that no one will ever find it_ , which is relieved. It feels as though something is over. An era is over.

 

 

She stares at the coffin. Her Dad died. There are tears running down her face endlessly. She believe it is out of the sorrow ( _it can’t be due to the relief, it can’t be_ ).

 

Her brother is standing beside her with his poker face and she wish to paint a set of tears on his cheeks. There is a part of her heart that hates him to the core – this man who stole her father away and replaced him with an exhausted inattentive zombie, this man who stole her life away – but there is a bigger part of her heart that loves him quite inexplicably.

 

He clasps her hands in consolation, a gesture she knows that is unknown for him, and for a split second she thinks of stars and constellations, she does not know why.

 

.

 

She falls in love again. This time, it is not with a boy but with a man. He doesn’t draw patterns in the sky. He doesn’t speak of dreams or give promises. His eyes are weary with a set of wrinkles that comes with life... that comes with experiences ( _and age_ ).

 

He gives her life lessons. He teaches her without teaching anything. He is married and with a kid.

 

He never knows of how she feels.

 

.

 

She has a good time. After all, life is about having a good time. She is young and beautiful and smart yet nearly invisible. In a long shadow cast by her father and her brother, she is struggling to be seen.

 

She keeps staring at the mirror every morning. There is no hidden beauty, no whispered promises. But, it’s alright. She has stopped looking for it years ago.

 

.

 

She keeps talking to her brother. He is always there. The omnipresent force that invades every aspect of her life. She calls on him for advice, for companionship. He always comes. He is the definition of reliability. She is grateful. And as much as she wants to tamp it down, there is a voice that speaks inside her head that resents him for it. _Dexter the Reliable._

She hopes just once, he doesn’t show up or says no. Just so she knows that he knows not showing up is also an option. Just so she knows that he comes because he wants to. It should be a choice, not a compulsion.

 

.

 

She falls in love once again. It is stupid and she is too grown up for this shit. But he makes her forget all that; he makes her feel like he is a Prince Charming. He is passionate and kind like her first love and wise and worldly like her second.

 

And she doesn’t know what to feel. It is dreamy yet real and she can’t help but dare to hope... dare to hope that maybe this will last and this will be real.

 

In the darkness he croons her name as he moves in her and she cries. She burst into tears. Tears that she _never_ shed for her first or second love, tears she shed for her Mom and Dad. Because she don’t know what to _feel_ and she can’t help but think that this maybe _real_...

 

How many people can say that? How many people can say that they had something real in their life? Not many.

 

And she feels that maybe she is one of the privileged few.

 

He tells her it’s alright.

 

He takes a cast of her leg and she feels beautiful, she feels Godly, she feels sinful... And she grins.

 

Rudy. Rudy Cooper. She loves him and he loves her too.

 

But from somewhere between frenzied but meaningful sex and air guitar lessons and making casts and fucking proposals she reach to the trunk of her car.

 

She is bound and she is dead.

 

And then she is not. Her brother is here.

 

.

 

She tries not to think about it. She tries not to think of how much a fool she was. How she frantically believed something to be _real_ when it had been so ( _so_ ) fake.

 

She tries not to think about how she loved him. ( _She think she still do, but sshh... It’s a secret!_ ) And she wishes, she keeps on wishing there was some switch she could flick so as to switch off her love. So that she could undo everything.

 

And she keeps thinking – those hands... Those hands that held her, caressed her, fucked her, those hands that put a motherfucking ring on her finger, those hands were soaked with blood. With blood and tears and agony...

 

And she can see little packages of bloodless pieces on her arms, her hips, her lips, her face, everywhere he touched her. She stands in her brother’s shower and she scrubs and she scrubs till her skin peels off, but she can still see them. She is steeped in their blood. It is on her, it is with her, it is inside her, it is in her.

 

She thinks of those brown eyes and shaggy brown hair and the perfect smile ( _and his glee while killing_ ) and the perfect kiss and the perfect fuck and she think of how she kissed his hands... How she kissed his hands soaked with whore’s blood and she pukes.

 

It was not her. It was not her that loved him.

But some demon that possessed her. _It was not her_.

 

.

 

Her brother is always there. This embodiment of all good things. Harry’s perfect child. She looks at Rita, Astor and Cody and they are perfection. Her brother showing love and kindness to a woman who had only known pain all her life.

 

Rita is who her brother loves. Rita is who her brother deserves. The fragile perfect Rita. Her brother loves damsels in distress. Her brother loves princesses.

 

She love Rudy. She love monsters.

 

Her brother loves damsels-in-distress, he must be Prince Charming.

 

She love monsters, she _is_ one.

 

.

 

 

 


End file.
